


Pillow Talk

by Emma Grant (emmagrant01)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-02
Updated: 2005-11-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmagrant01/pseuds/Emma%20Grant
Summary: Five vignettes from a relationship.





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

**Note:** This is a series of short fics written out of order, all centered around a theme. Written for Anise, who is loved muchly.

* * *

_**~ Four ~** _

"Do you love me?"

Draco squinted into the darkness. "That's a stupid question."

Harry shrugged into his pillow, then turned to stare at the ceiling. 

Draco watched him for a while, watched the slight rise and fall of his chest in the dim light. He had lost count of the number of times he'd awakened from a nightmare and stared at Harry's sleeping form like this, just to reassure himself that Harry was still breathing. Was alive. _Real_. 

He'd never told Harry that, though. He felt a bit silly about it, but…

"After ten years, you don't know?" Draco whispered. 

Harry turned his head to look at him. "I do. I just… like to hear it, I guess."

"Do I not tell you enough?" Draco asked. He didn't, he was sure. He just didn't think of it. He'd never been good at that sort of thing. He knew _he_ was loved, after all. He could see it in Harry's eyes, in his every gesture. 

Harry sighed. "I don't think it's possible to tell me enough. I can be such a needy shit, I know."

"So can I," Draco said, though it wasn't quite the same thing. 

Harry would appreciate being touched now. Draco preferred not to be touched at moments like this; he wanted to be left alone until he was done sulking, and Harry's poking and prodding and *What did I do?*s only made it worse. But Harry, of course, was different.

Draco moved closer and rested his head on Harry's shoulder, wrapping his body around him -- arm over chest, legs intertwined. Harry's arms slid around Draco a moment later, and he sighed. Draco smiled. He'd done it right this time. 

They were silent for a long time, so long that Draco started to drift to sleep.

"Do you ever wonder how it might have been different?" Harry asked. His voice rumbled through his chest, almost distorted. 

"Not really," Draco whispered in reply. "It was a long time ago."

"Yes, but…" Harry didn't finish the sentence. He took a deep breath instead, releasing it in a long sigh.

"I love you," Draco whispered, fighting to stay awake. "Did you know?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. Draco could almost hear a smile. "I know. But thanks for reminding me."

* * *

_**~ One ~** _

"Harder... yes..."

A drop of something wet hit Draco's cheek and he brushed it away with an impatient swipe. Harry always got sweaty during sex, but at the moment Draco really didn't care. How could he? -- with Harry pounding into him, hitting just the right spot, right there...

"Like that... oh god..." Draco covered his eyes with one hand as the sound of Harry's panting increased. He would feel guilty later -- it always took him a long time, while Harry barely needed friction -- but now all he could think about was the grip of Harry's fingers on his hips, the pressure building in his groin, the steady rise of sensation pushing toward release.

"I'm... I'm... ah..." His words spiraled into an inarticulate howl as it overwhelmed him; his fist a blur on his cock, his mouth open, his body arching into Harry. 

The feeling faded into a lovely sated dizziness. He was vaguely aware of Harry's grunts of effort turning into another sound altogether, of the rhythm in his arse becoming erratic and then stopping. Harry collapsed onto him, shaking a bit.

And he was… _sweaty_. Draco sighed and tried not to think about it. He stroked Harry's arms -- which were less sweaty than his back, Draco knew from almost a year of experience. He shouldn't mind. All of that sweat was the result of Harry's hard work, he reminded himself. Hard work done almost entirely for Draco's benefit. 

Harry chose that moment to rub his forehead against Draco's dry cheek.

"Eww!" Draco groaned, pushing him away.

"What?" Harry grinned, now hovering over him. "Afraid you'll get dirty?"

Draco grimaced. "You know I have a thing about sweat." 

"Oh, look," Harry said, staring at Draco's forehead. "You're sweaty too. I'll just--"

"No!" Draco said, but he already felt the warm swipe of Harry's tongue on his skin. He closed his eyes. "You fucking… You know I hate that!"

"You secretly love it," Harry whispered between licks.

"I don't. I hate it. I hate _you_."

"No you don't," Harry replied, his tone one of mock exasperation. "You love me. You're so fucking in love with me that you secretly wrap yourself up in the sweaty sheets when I leave." He licked some more, working his way down Draco's neck.

"Stop it!" Draco said, but he'd started to laugh. He couldn't help it.

"Admit it," Harry said as he buried his nose in Draco's underarm. "You love this."

"No."

"You love _me_." Harry was tickling him now, trying to pry his arm away from his body. Draco tried to wriggle away, but Harry's weight on him kept him from moving. Harry caught his arm and pressed it into the pillow above his head. 

"I hate you," Draco laughed. 

"No you don't," Harry said. His voice was muffled against Draco's skin. "You love it when I drip sweat all over you. You love me for it."

"I…" Draco began, and then gasped as Harry's tongue wormed its way into the hair under his arms. It felt... _good_. "Oh god," he breathed. "I do."

Harry's head popped up. "You do?"

"I what?" Draco asked, feeling himself blush. What had he just said?

Harry's eyes were wide. "You love me?"

Draco stared back at him for several seconds. It wasn't exactly what he'd meant to say, but... it was true. At least, he thought it was. He'd never really been in love before, so he wasn't entirely certain.

He took a deep breath. "Yes."

For once, Harry was lost for words. He stared at Draco for a long moment and then leaned forward.

Draco put a hand over Harry's mouth and grinned. "Oh, no -- not after where your mouth has been!"

Harry kissed him anyway.

And it wasn't that bad, Draco thought -- when he could think again.

* * *

_**~ Three ~** _

Harry _finally_ came to bed.

Draco had headed upstairs half an hour ago, leaving Harry at the kitchen table surrounded by rolls of parchment. And he'd spent the last 25 minutes thinking about sex -- particularly how little of it they'd had of late. He'd wanked in the shower that morning after Harry had left, which had only made him think about Harry (and sex) all day at work. Of course, Harry had come home late and continued to work after dinner, so Draco hadn't had a good chance to seduce him. 

Which was why the mere sight of Harry stumbling through the door and stripping out of his clothes was enough to make Draco completely hard. Harry had barely slipped under the sheets before Draco snuggled against him, one hand trailing down his stomach.

Harry caught Draco's hand. "Love you," he said, bringing it to his lips.

Draco scowled and pulled his hand away, rolling onto his back.

"What was that for?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Draco replied, closing his eyes.

"Oh, no," Harry groaned. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Draco repeated, feeling a full pout coming on. "It's just that…" He paused long enough to be sure he had Harry's attention. "We haven't had sex in over a week."

"I know," Harry said, reaching out to stroke Draco's arm. "And I'm sorry. Work has been so crazy and I'm tired and--"

"I've never said _no_ to you," Draco told him, staring resolutely at the ceiling. "Not once in over five years. Not even when I was tired or sick. When you wanted me, I was happy to oblige."

Harry rubbed at his eyes with one hand and rolled onto his side to face Draco. He watched Draco for a moment, but Draco pretended he didn't notice. After nearly a minute of silence, Harry leaned in and trailed his lips across Draco's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Draco muttered.

One of Harry's hands worked its way under the sheet. "What does it look like?"

Draco caught that hand just before it reached his destination. "I don't want a pity fuck."

"It's not a pity fuck."

"Yes it is. You didn't want it a minute ago, and you don't want it now."

Harry's forehead pressed into Draco's shoulder. "I changed my mind."

"No you didn't. You just feel guilty. So forget it."

"Stop," Harry said, his voice rising a fraction. "Will you _please_ not do this tonight?"

"Do what?" Draco retorted, closing his eyes.

Harry was silent for a moment before replying. "Look, I had a shitty day at work. My head is splitting. I didn't sleep well last night, or the night before that. I'm exhausted." He sighed again and squeezed Draco's hand. "I love you, but I'm just not in the mood."

Draco released his hand. He couldn't think of anything to say to that. Harry smoothed his hand over Draco's chest and then curled around him so that their bodies fit tightly together. Draco clenched his jaw, feeling a bit claustrophobic. 

"Okay?" Harry continued, fingertips tracing a small circle on Draco's stomach. "Please don't make me feel guilty for this. You're the only thing in my life that's good at the moment."

Draco winced. How had this suddenly become _his_ fault? "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty." 

"I know." Harry said into Draco's skin, his head cradled on Draco's shoulder.

"I just… I love you. I've missed you this week."

"I've missed you too."

Draco pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head. Now _he_ felt guilty, and terribly selfish. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

He felt Harry smile against his bare skin. "Tomorrow, I promise."

"Tomorrow," Draco repeated, settling down into his pillow. He sighed. It would do. He could wait.

"I'll surprise you," Harry whispered.

Draco smiled. "I like surprises."

* * *

_**~ Five ~** _

Draco loved the taste of Harry. He loved the way he smelled, even when he was sweaty and dirty -- and sometimes, _especially_ then. He loved the way he sounded when Draco was making love to him: little gasps and humming sounds, rarely complete words.

And then there were moments like this.

He had Harry's cock in his mouth, sucked down to the point where he was nearly gagging, and Harry was shifting his hips and stroking Draco's head. And Draco knew exactly what it meant.

He came off Harry's prick and teased his balls with the tip of his tongue. Harry groaned and shifted his hips up a little more.

Draco sighed and sat back on his elbows. After a few seconds, Harry's head popped up.

"Why'd you stop?"

Draco let his fingers play over the inside of Harry's thigh. "What do you want me to do?"

Harry blinked at him for a moment, and then blushed. "I liked what you were doing."

"And what was I doing?"

"You were... licking me." Harry's head fell back against the pillow.

"Do you want me to keep licking you like that?" Draco asked, grinning.

"Yes," Harry replied. The word sounded like it was lodged in his throat.

Draco leaned in and trailed his tongue over Harry's balls again. After about a minute, Harry moved again.

It was very hard not to laugh. "Do you want me to lick you somewhere else?"

The sigh he heard from above him was one of exasperation. "Draco…"

Draco crawled up and stretched himself out over Harry, who was now hiding his face with his hands. "Why can't you say it?"

"I don't know," Harry mumbled. "Why do you want me to say it?"

"Because we have been together for twelve fucking years!" Draco laughed. "We've done just about everything there is to do in bed, and for some ridiculous reason, you're still embarrassed to ask for what you want."

"I know it doesn't make any sense," Harry replied. "I just _am_."

Draco tugged at his wrists, and Harry reluctantly allowed his hands to be pulled away from his face. Draco kissed the tip of his nose and smiled. "I won't do it again until you ask me, specifically."

Harry winced. "Oh, come on--"

"I'll even help you," Draco said. "Just repeat after me: Draco, I want you to lick my arsehole."

Harry pulled a pillow over his head.

"Come on," Draco laughed, taking advantage of the opportunity to tickle Harry. "You do it to me all the time. If you can _do_ it, why can't you _say_ it?"

"I don't know," was Harry's muffled reply. 

Draco tugged at the pillow, but only managed to uncover one ear. "Tell me you want me to fuck your arse with my tongue," he whispered into it. "Tell me you want me to lick and suck your hole, and stick my tongue in as far as it will go, while you wank yourself. I know it's what you want, but I want to hear you say it."

The next thing Draco knew, he was on his back with Harry's tongue in his mouth, sliding against his own. Draco moaned then -- they hardly ever kissed like this any more -- and let himself be ravaged. Harry soon moved to his throat, which allowed Draco to make a few unintelligible sounds of his own.

Harry worked his way down Draco's torso, and then roughly rolled him over. Draco felt the cheeks of his arse being parted and Harry's damp breath against his arsehole. 

"Oh god," he groaned.

"How about instead of telling you," Harry whispered, and then paused to lick at the taut skin under his mouth, "I show you?"

"God, I love you," Draco said, and then found himself quite incapable of saying another word.

* * *

_**~ Two ~** _

"I thought they'd never leave," Harry said, pushing Draco onto the bed.

Draco pulled him closer by his necktie. "Me too. And now we're all alone." He arched one eyebrow. "Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"

Harry stared down at him, a strange expression on his face. "I've been thinking about that, actually. How _should_ we do this?"

"What?" Draco frowned at him. "Are you drunk or something?"

"No," Harry said, rolling to the side and propping his head up on one elbow. "This is _important_. We can't just do it like… you know, without really thinking about it." 

Draco laughed. "You _are_ drunk! Why should we do it any differently than we always have?"

Harry looked entirely serious. "That's not what I mean. This is supposed to be special."

Harry picked the strangest ways to be sentimental. "It's already special," Draco sighed. "I love you. But I just want you fuck me now, please?"

Harry wasn't deterred. "We _fuck_ all the time, have done for three years. I don't want this to be just a fuck. It's supposed to be--"

Draco cut Harry off with a kiss. "It doesn't matter what it's _supposed_ to be. Haven't you figured that out already? It doesn't matter who's on top tonight, or if we just suck each other off, or -- god forbid -- if we don't do it at all. We don't have to live up to anyone's expectations."

Harry's forehead wrinkled. "I know. But… I guess I wanted it to be special."

Draco brushed hair away from Harry's forehead. "Then it will be, okay? We'll do whatever you want. Just tell me what to do."

Harry shrugged, then ducked his head. "No, you're right. Never mind. I'm being stupid."

"You're being sweet. But you're entirely too clothed at the moment." Draco pulled the Harry's necktie loose and started to work on the shirt's buttons.

Harry rolled onto his back and let Draco undress him. He stared at Draco while he worked, his glasses slightly askew on his face. 

By the time Draco tugged Harry's underwear down over his hips, he was already hard. Draco couldn't resist leaning down to kiss the tip of Harry's erection. He looked up to see Harry still watching him.

Draco smiled. "Well? Where do we begin?"

To his surprise, Harry blushed. "I… I think I know what I want," he said. At Draco's nod of encouragement, he continued, "I want you to make love to me. I want you to do anything you want, as long as you think it's something I'll like. Don't tell me what you're going to do -- just surprise me. Consider it my gift."

Draco grinned at him. "That's a lovely gift. Thank you."

Harry grinned back. "I meant it to be a gift for _me_ , actually. But if that saves me from having to buy something absurdly expensive for you--"

"Of course it doesn't," Draco quipped. He stretched out beside Harry and kissed his forehead. Harry closed his eyes, and an expression of contentment settled on his face. Draco kissed his temple, his cheek, his nose, his chin. He wouldn't admit it to Harry, but he wanted this night to be special too. It meant more to him than he wanted to think about -- and if he thought about it too much, he would be overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. 

"I love you, Harry," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth. "Thank you so much."

Harry smiled. "For what?" 

"For marrying me today."

* * *

_fin_


End file.
